Catching Up

Matt and Sarah's birthdays are within 3 days of one another. Since Matt is still Sarah's Knight in Shining Armor, they celebrate each year together.

Sarah had a wish list of birthday activites that was 4 miles long.

Number One was to go the the beach in Hawaii with her best friends.

We went to Lake Ontario instead.

Tom Boo, marching.

Nate did not like the sand. At all.

It's not the ocean, but she is adjusting.

Thomas kept burying his Crocs in the sand. We are lucky to have left with two of them.

Good family pictures are totally over-rated.

Peaceful Buzz

 After the beach, we came home and had a quiet evening. Pizza and cookie cake. And fixing bikes?

"Helping" Daddy

Joseph's back tire. He likes to skid and call himself Lightning McQueen.
"McQueen's blown a tire!!!"

Is that number for real?

Matt totally picked out this cake at Wegmans

Happy Birthday to YOU!

This makes me laugh so hard. Sarah is being the perfect model, smiling for the camera, while the boys swoop in and blow out ALL the candles.

The Aftermath

"My Dad can fix anything!"

And another try

 Presents in Pajamas!

Favorite gift was Rose, the baby doll she has been asking for since birth.

Close second was Cinderella and her horse

Sarah and Rose Karen. Matt and I picked out this particular doll because it looked so much like all of our babies. Weird. Must have been the Michelin Man arms. 

Matt got a "drill that didn't shoot fire", which sincerely disappointed Joseph. And he got a compound saw...which receieved an "ok" from Joseph.

Nay Nay, feeding Rose Karen.

Nay Nay, feeding Nay Nay.

Baby Rose Karen needed some accessorizing. The boys bought all the extras and couldn't wait to try them out for themselves. Yes, that is a potty seat. Oh Tom!

Tom, checking out the specs on the baby tub.

Nate, who won't sit on a real potty chair, helping himself to Rose's new seat.

 Uncle Mike came over early on Sarah's actual birthday and delivered our favorite breakfast: pancakes and hash browns!
Hash browns are the reason I have already gained 650lbs this pregnancy.
Thank you, Michael.

And a beautiful bouquet of flowers for Bean.

Happy Birthday Sarah and Matt!

Friends

Maire came over to play with Sarah this week. I have decided that two girls are ALWAYS better than one. I have never seen two children play so peacefully, politely or productively in my life. It was refreshing...and Sarah was soooooo happy!

And because Nathan had two doting "sisters", and he was fed twice as much cookie dough as normal, he was happy too! (Maire, how much do you charge per hour for babysitting?)

Erika came to visit this week, too! Coloring and Polly Pockets were on the schedule this time. 

Lots of hugs and love for Nathan.

Tommy and Joseph even let Erika into their Man Cave.

It's official, Erika: You are part of the family now!

The last friend to share for this post is new to all of us.

Meet Pierre.

Matt has a red-winged blackbird at work that sits outside his window and, very much like my children, repeatedly runs into his reflection in the glass. After Pierre gets all banged up, he lets out a couple of squawks to let Matt know that he is very angry that the "other bird" is still around. Then he has another go at the glass.

Pierre keeps Matt company during his long days/nights at work. He is such a good friend.

So what better birthday gift to give Matt than a Pierre replica?!? Scuba Steve purchased a crow at a sporting goods store and painted it all up to look like the love of Matt's life.

He seriously carries it around like this. I am having flashbacks to Sleeping Beauty and the scenes of Maleficent with her crow.

"My Pet".

Rain, Rain, Go Away

It is spring with lots of rain. Alpha and Beta attempts at keeping the children occupied inside are successful thus far.

This is what they do when Mommy suggests an activity for a rainy day. They stare out the back door longingly, waiting for someone to rescue them (and praying Novenas to every Saint they know so that the rain will stop).

Project Alpha:

Hire an energetic college student to wrestle the children into submission so I can clean a bathroom or two.

$200/hour

That is what a Scuba Steve charges.

 I don't have that kind of cash, so he doesn't get paid.

But he keeps coming over anyway, to the demise of his kidneys, knees and various other body parts that my children can reach. 

Yes, that is rug burn on his knees.

 Project Beta:

Get out Matt's Star Wars collection from childhood and overinundate the children.

Matt calls him the "Pantless Wonder"

Hoping for sunny days soon!

Figuring It All Out

Figuring out how to measure:

Figuring out why the water bill has been so high:

Figuring out how to be grateful, even in the sad moments:

Figuring out how to spend more time with Daddy:

Random Thoughts

I am not as efficient as I would like to be at completing the laundry. I don't know why. I'm crazy about laundry. I love laundry. But my children? They still think the laundry fairy comes in the middle of the night, so they don't give me much time to do it during the day.

Anyway, changing the sheets on the beds is a completely different story. Each child has two sets of sheets, so I am not forced to wash, dry and reassemble 5 beds all in one day. Easy, right? But I run into problems when I can't find the extra sheets because they were used as a canopy for the tent/fort that the children made...and then when the bad people came and detroyed their living quarters, they ran away with the roof and hid it...and no one knows where it could be..."Maybe Nathan has your (king-sized, mind you) fitted sheet," they suggest. And I am white hot with anger...not because they are blaming the 1 1/2 year old for taking my bed linens, but because I have to go wash, dry and reassemble the sheets and pillowcases in time for bed.

And this particular day I don't have time. I don't make time. At 10pm I decide that Matt and I will, yet again, be sleeping on a mattress pad and uncovered pillows. Wait! Why do I have uncovered pillows too? Where are all my extra pillowcases? Ahhhh, now I remember. The children are using them. The 600 thread count, sateen, matching pillow cases for my marriage bed are under each of the four heads of my precious offspring. Their pillowcases were being used as Santa's bag, a train hoarding device, a backpack for kitchen utensils and I just simply cannot find that other one.

Let's blame Nathan.

So I scour the linen closet and come up with these two pillowcases. One is a flannel snowman pattern for a set of winter sheets for the bunkbeds. The other was from Matt's parents, from when he was a child. When Matt entered our sanctuary and saw what was on the bed that night, I believe he dove/belly flopped (like Shamu, y' all) and called dibs on the Darth Vader pillow...like I was going to arm wrestle him for that one! "Seriously?" I said. Because all I want to do is cuddle up close to the Dark Jedi all night.

This bed looks inviting. I should be an interior decorator.

~~

The next day, I walk into Sarah's room and step directly on a piece of dollhouse furniture. Hurts like a Lego. I bend down, say a prayer for the souls of my children and think about throwing that particular piece into the trash. And I see this.

Look closer.

Yes, she has regular dollhouse pieces and the whole entire family to go inside this beautiful mansion. And yet she plays with the statues of Our Lady of the Streets and the Sacred Heart of Jesus.

*Sigh*

~~

This is a scene that I find incredibly funny. My children, they have toys that make noise. People who love us most dearly (they actually despise us) give us these battery powered, obnoxious megaphones of insanity...because our house isn't loud enough. The worst part is that the kids, from birth, have decided that all noise making toys "go together". You know, they all need to be playing at the same time. Sometimes in rounds. So they line them all up and push each button. If one stops prematurely, the child quickly starts it up again...until the chorus is completed. And my children? They don't understand what "fine" means within a musical score, so this could go on for hours...or until the battery dies and they cry for me to call Daddy to drive home immediately and change them. (Best decision I ever made was to tell the children that only Daddies could change batteries. "Mommies have babies. Daddies change batteries.")

Ahhhhh, sweet music.